ELLZEY: Seeing through the fog

Published: Sunday, October 28, 2001 at 6:01 a.m.

Last Modified: Saturday, October 27, 2001 at 11:00 p.m.

I like autumn, or what passes for that season in this part of Louisiana. It brings a little relief from the steamy humidity of summer, a longed-for excuse for making hot chocolate and gumbo.

It also brings chilly, foggy mornings. The wet fog beads up on everything outdoors - windshields, grass, flowers and the otherwise invisible work of our eight-legged friends. Lots of folks are happier not knowing it, but spiders are everywhere. Like other creatures, they spend the summer growing fat and getting ready for the coming winter.

Somehow, the intricate snares they set for their insect prey largely escape our view, until fall, when they sparkle beads of moisture. The cedar tree in my neighbor's yard must have thousands of tiny spider webs; and bigger spiders decorate the power lines along lower Coteau Road.

More fog: I find there are varieties of fog. Weatherpersons speak dense fog, light fog or "a patchy fog." A few years back, a friend from Oklahoma sent me an issue of a little newspaper called the "Apache Fog." I suspect it was published just to give the editor a chance to use his favorite pun.

Drivers also encounter several varieties of fog. There is the cloud of mist that hangs over the road, reflecting your own headlights back into your face. There is wet fog that condenses on the outside of your cold windshield faster than your wipers can remove it.

More fog, the product of your own breath, is apt to coat the inside of your windshield, maybe even your glasses, until your defroster catches up. But the worst fog, the kind that causes more accidents than any other, is inside the heads of drivers.

On two-lane Grand Caillou Road below Houma one recent foggy morning, most of the drivers I met had their headlights on. Just after dawn, no one really needed headlights to see where they were going, but the unlighted vehicles were nearly invisible to oncoming traffic. It was the kind of mental fog that leads to head-on collisions.

On not voting: "I did not vote in the Oct. 20 election, but I had a reason." The caller did not argue that voting is not an important responsibility of American citizenship. She did not claim to be too busy or that she had forgotten.

"I simply could not get enough information on the candidates to make a decision," she said. Oh, she had seen the advertisements, the candidates' statements about themselves, but she felt she needed more. It's a perpetual problem: what to believe about candidates and issues. A candidate or a supporter of an election proposition can be counted on to deliver positive information; an opponent is likely to dwell on the negative.

What voters need is a reliable supply of unbiased information. Newspapers attempt to deliver that, and I wonder what additional facts or details would have made the caller comfortable with voting.

Coxont? Whatever came of the Coxant family of Terrebonne? A 1951 Houma Courier reported "A. Coxant," born a slave in St. Francisville, was celebrating his 100th birthday with his wife, Mary, and children, Martin, Oliver, Bessie and Ida present.

<p>I like autumn, or what passes for that season in this part of Louisiana. It brings a little relief from the steamy humidity of summer, a longed-for excuse for making hot chocolate and gumbo.</p><!-- Nothing to do. The paragraph has already been output --><p>It also brings chilly, foggy mornings. The wet fog beads up on everything outdoors - windshields, grass, flowers and the otherwise invisible work of our eight-legged friends. Lots of folks are happier not knowing it, but spiders are everywhere. Like other creatures, they spend the summer growing fat and getting ready for the coming winter.</p><p>Somehow, the intricate snares they set for their insect prey largely escape our view, until fall, when they sparkle beads of moisture. The cedar tree in my neighbor's yard must have thousands of tiny spider webs; and bigger spiders decorate the power lines along lower Coteau Road.</p><p>More fog: I find there are varieties of fog. Weatherpersons speak dense fog, light fog or "a patchy fog." A few years back, a friend from Oklahoma sent me an issue of a little newspaper called the "Apache Fog." I suspect it was published just to give the editor a chance to use his favorite pun.</p><p>Drivers also encounter several varieties of fog. There is the cloud of mist that hangs over the road, reflecting your own headlights back into your face. There is wet fog that condenses on the outside of your cold windshield faster than your wipers can remove it.</p><p>More fog, the product of your own breath, is apt to coat the inside of your windshield, maybe even your glasses, until your defroster catches up. But the worst fog, the kind that causes more accidents than any other, is inside the heads of drivers.</p><p>On two-lane Grand Caillou Road below Houma one recent foggy morning, most of the drivers I met had their headlights on. Just after dawn, no one really needed headlights to see where they were going, but the unlighted vehicles were nearly invisible to oncoming traffic. It was the kind of mental fog that leads to head-on collisions.</p><p>On not voting: "I did not vote in the Oct. 20 election, but I had a reason." The caller did not argue that voting is not an important responsibility of American citizenship. She did not claim to be too busy or that she had forgotten.</p><p>"I simply could not get enough information on the candidates to make a decision," she said. Oh, she had seen the advertisements, the candidates' statements about themselves, but she felt she needed more. It's a perpetual problem: what to believe about candidates and issues. A candidate or a supporter of an election proposition can be counted on to deliver positive information; an opponent is likely to dwell on the negative.</p><p>What voters need is a reliable supply of unbiased information. Newspapers attempt to deliver that, and I wonder what additional facts or details would have made the caller comfortable with voting.</p><p>Coxont? Whatever came of the Coxant family of Terrebonne? A 1951 Houma Courier reported "A. Coxant," born a slave in St. Francisville, was celebrating his 100th birthday with his wife, Mary, and children, Martin, Oliver, Bessie and Ida present.</p><p>Responding? Contact Bill Ellzey at 876-5638; or ellzey@cajunnet.com or c/o The Courier, P.O. Box 2717, Houma, LA 70361.</p>